


Mine

by That_writer_girl



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-02-13 02:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12974121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/That_writer_girl/pseuds/That_writer_girl
Summary: Years later and he could still recall that first flash of deep blue silk and chiffon in his peripheral vision, his first glimpse of her. Interest piqued, his eyes had darted after her.In retrospect, he'd been captivated in that instant. Blindsided. How could he have ever seen her coming?





	1. Prologue

Prologue

Years later and he could still recall that first flash of deep blue silk and chiffon in his peripheral vision, his first glimpse of her. Interest piqued, his eyes had darted after her, almost of their own accord, finding a bare, creamy shoulder which had him immediately wondering what her skin would taste like.

Unconsciously licking his lips, he lifted his gaze to the back of her head, admiring the way a few dark chocolate curls escaped from her elegant chignon, tumbling down in wild abandon. Effortlessly careless.

Sinful. He’d caught himself thinking about how his fingers in her hair would feel - silky strands slipping through his grasp, or how she’d sound moaning his name over and over and then someone had made her laugh, her head thrown back in delight. He watched her turn, light dancing in her eyes in merriment and suddenly her steely blue gaze had collided with his. It felt like his heart stopped and time stood still for a moment. It felt like he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

In retrospect, he’d been captivated in that instant. Blindsided. How could he have ever seen her coming?


	2. Chapter One

The shuffling of hundreds of feet marching by resounded in her head, punctuated every so often by announcements over the tannoy system calling tired travellers and sharp business men to their destinations. The piercing wail of a hungry infant or overtired toddler added to the din and made her ears ring. She pitied the parents with the harassed-looking faces, usually an exhausted mother attempting to placate her offspring, urging them to silence while a disinterested father ambled along in their wake, absorbed in the latest tech gadget. That would never be her.

Talking. Everywhere. Odd snatches of conversation as families and couples rushed past. A colourful rainbow of accents and language, all meshed together, one thundering rush, rising up into the air and whirling around to press back down onto her. Overwhelming. Disorientating. 

She sat silently, watching it all go by, nerves making her jittery, foot tapping, a nervous tic she had picked up from her father and used often, even though she knew to an outsider, it just served to make her appear impatient. Biting down on her lip, she began to feel flushed as the minutes ticked by, waiting for her flight to be announced.

To say she was worried was an understatement. The last (and only) time she had flown, she had been too young and too caught up in the excitement of her first proper family holiday abroad to focus on how an approximately four hundred and fifty ton plane was going to safely get up into the sky. This time she was alone, no one to soothe away her worries with distraction techniques. Alone with an entirely overactive imagination that seemed to delight in showing her just how wrong aviation could go.

Sighing, she started picking at the frayed denim on the hem of her shorts, reminding herself why she was doing this. Once in a lifetime opportunity. Fresh out of a career she had never been in love with, she had returned to where she had always felt at home, finding an old passion re-ignited behind the camera lens. Answering the ad for an on set stills photographer for a production somewhere in North America had been a spur of the moment, slightly inebriated kind of thing. Cue shock when one of the producers of said production had contacted her personally with nothing but praise for her portfolio. So here she was, London Heathrow, nervous as hell and in dire need of a stiff drink to calm her nerves.

She smiled to herself despite the nerves. Luck had never much seemed to be on her side yet now it seemed as if the tide may be turning and she was determined to seize it with both hands. A move away from London for a fresh start somewhere where no one knew her was just what she needed.

Shouldering her backpack, she stood and made a bee line towards the Starbucks in the terminal, ordering a large cappuccino and settling in the couch in the window so she could keep an eye on the departures board.

Sipping the scalding hot beverage, she sighed and let her head fall back slightly in appreciation, savouring the taste. Coffee ritual of hers. This was worship. Caffeine was her drug.

As she enjoyed her hit, she checked her phone for the hundredth time. Eight fifteen. Boarding would soon begin. She grinned at a message from her mum, wishing her all the luck in the world and sent a quick reply before picking up a voicemail from one of the producers of the show informing her that there would be a driver waiting for her at Hartsfield-Jackson International to transport her to the hotel she would be staying in.

Glancing again at the departures board, she saw they had released the gate number for her flight. She tucked her phone into her jacket pocket with her passport and boarding pass then drained the last of her coffee before standing to make her way to boarding.

******************************************

Unbearable. There was simply no other word for it! Absolutely unbearable! The heat of the sun beating down on them was enough to drive anyone crazy and she squirmed uncomfortably as she felt the sweat trickle between her shoulder blades, down to the small of her back. Tendrils of hair that had escaped the messy bun atop her head were plastered to the sides of her face and the back of her neck. Dark gray patches stood out stark on her shirt, the moisture causing it to cling to her skin in places and the humidity was so oppressive it felt like her lungs were screaming for oxygen. It was almost as if the air around her was physically boxing her in, pressing inward and making her feel slightly claustrophobic.

Taking a deep breath in an effort to expand her seemingly newly shriveled lungs, she glanced up apprehensively at the eccentric looking man walking beside her as he led her towards a small crowd of people gathered under the shade of one of the nearby trees lining the side of the road they currently had shut down for filming.

‘Sooo, um, is it likely to get any hotter than it already is?’ She enquired.

The man chuckled before smiling at her kindly. ‘It’s only June, there’s certainly time yet!’

‘Who knew the seventh circle of hell was located in Griffin, Georgia?’ She wondered aloud.

Greg watched the young woman walking at his side, the uncertainty flickering across her face becoming more evident the closer they came to the group in front of them. ‘Listen, Emma....’ he began, halting and turning toward her, waiting for her to do the same. ‘I know this is all new and you’re a long way from home but trust me when I say, I’m confident we’ve hired the right person for the job. I know you can do this, I’ve seen what you do and how you work. You’ll fit right in.’

She smiled nervously up at him, biting her lip. ‘I’m glad you’re so sure!’ She murmured before continuing on toward the side of the road. She squared her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly as they neared the group. She began to recognise a few of them from her efforts in researching on the flight over. The second she had stepped foot in the airport she began to doubt whether she was doing the right thing in throwing everything away and flying thousands of miles halfway round the world to start a new job with no qualifications and only a passion for what she did to see her through and now here she was, in the sweltering heat in the middle of back woods Georgia, US of A!

Self doubt clouded her features as they stopped and Greg began to introduce her to everyone. What was she thinking? She couldn’t do this! What a moment to have an epiphany. Under the scrutinising gaze of these strange, new people. The heat of the sun seemed like nothing now compared to being caught in the gaze of the ridiculously beautiful people in front of her. Even though they were covered in dirt and fake blood. Well, she hoped it was fake anyway.

Her reverie was interrupted when a dark haired young woman stepped forward and grabbed her into a hug. ‘Hi, I’m Alanna!’ 

A little taken aback, she returned the hug. ‘Nice to meet you,’ she murmured as a man with a mullet squeezed her tightly before introducing himself.

‘I’m Josh. Nice to have ya on set, Brit!’

‘Ah, no! My name is Emma!’

‘But you are from the UK, right?’

‘Oh, um, yeah! I get it! Sorry, jet lag!’ She apologised, blushing slightly.

The rest of the group introduced themselves one by one before Greg steered her away. She felt entirely overwhelmed right now and the older man seemed to sense that as he led her towards what appeared to be craft services and handed her a chilled bottle of water. She unscrewed the cap and sipped it slowly before meeting Greg’s gaze. 

‘You got this!’ He smiled, giving her a thumbs up. ‘Ready to start?’

She gulped before answering. ‘Let me get my gear.’

Fifteen minutes later, gear retrieved and still sweating buckets, she was stood again at the side of the road where filming was about to proceed, trusty Canon in her hands. Greg was directing and had given her free reign to capture whatever spoke to her as long as she stayed out of shot and remained as quiet as possible while they were rolling. Pretty sure everything will come out blurry with my nerves right now, she thought to herself as she focused in on a shot of Josh with his arm casually slung over Alanna’s shoulders, both of them smiling as they watched the scene being set up. Alanna caught her lining up the shot and winked at the camera, sticking her tongue out the side of her mouth at the same time. Emma took the shot before lowering the camera and smiling over at the young woman.

‘So, how’re you finding Georgia so far?’ A distinctly British voice asked from directly behind her.

She jumped, spinning round to find a young looking man stood there with long brown hair and stunning blue eyes. ‘Jesus!’ She exclaimed.

‘Well, sort of,’ he smiled.

It took her a second to register his joke before she put two and two together and recalled the character this young man played was named Jesus, or rather Paul Rovia. ‘Tom, right?’ She asked, holding her hand out. He shook it, answering in the affirmative. ‘Well, Georgia is lovely. The heat - not so much!’ She answered his previous question.

‘So, you’re our new unit stills photographer!’

‘I am indeed! Emma, nice to meet you!’

Tom looked over to Alanna and Josh, waving before returning his attention to her. ‘This your first day?’

‘Yup, do you mind?’ She gestured to him, lifting her camera.

‘Uhhh....sure,’ he smiled obligingly.

‘It’s just your profile....sorry, photographer’s eye!’

‘No problem!’

Tom turned to look back at his cast mates again, smiling and she snapped the shot quickly. ‘Thank you!’

‘Places!’ Greg’s voice boomed out.

Tom turned to her. ‘Catch ya later!’ He winked as he headed over to his cue.

Emma watched as everyone seemed to jump into action and she watched quietly from the sidelines as they began rolling, taking the occasional photo.

It seemed like only moments later, Greg had called cut and assistants appeared almost as if from nowhere and began to dismantle everything, packing away carefully then she realised they were losing the light.

Alanna wandered over to her, still dressed head to toe as Tara. ‘Hey,’ she greeted. Emma looked up from where she knelt, packing up her camera equipment. ‘That looks heavy, can I give you a hand at all?’

‘Oh, no! You don’t have to! Honestly, I’m used to it!’

‘I don’t mind!’ Alanna swung one of the three bags at her feet onto her shoulder as Emma straightened.

‘Uh..ok, I’m parked this way.’

‘Cool.’ Alanna fell into step beside her, quiet for a few moments before looking over to Emma. ‘So, um...a few of us are going out to celebrate Josh’s birthday at this bar tonight, come with us?’

‘Oh! I...uh...I..I don’t have anything to wear...I’m still not unpacked and I’m sure you guys don’t really want me there. You don’t know me, won’t it be weird? I’ll probably be really boring and...’

Alanna’s laugh cut her off abruptly and she met her gaze. ‘I’m sorry,’ Alanna apologised quickly. ‘It’s just, do you always get that nervous when someone invites you to a party? Seriously, we really want you to come! Gather we’re all gonna be spending a lot of time together, it’d be nice to get to know the girl behind the lens! I can lend you something to wear, we look about the same size. Come to mine and we’ll get ready together!’

‘Uh...ok, sure! That’d be really nice!’

‘Great! Wait here for me while I go de-Tara!’ 

Emma took her bag back as the young woman whirled away and she realised they had reached her car. She popped the trunk and loaded her bags in before walking round to the drivers side and climbing behind the wheel. Taking a deep breath, she leant back and closed her eyes for what felt like a second but she awoke to the sound of tapping on her passenger side window.

Looking over, she saw Alanna motioning for her to roll down the window.

‘I’m in the black truck over there,’ she motioned. ‘Follow me.’

Emma nodded in the affirmative, pulling behind the vehicle and following it out past security. The cracked window allowed a breeze to circulate around the car as she drove and she filled her lungs with the clean air. Tapping her fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song on the radio, she couldn’t deny that she was at least a little excited for this evening. It had been a while since she had felt like she belonged but she had a feeling it wouldn’t be long until she called these people family.


End file.
